Three Sides to Every Story

As the saying goes, there are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth.

I was reminded of this old adage while watching one of those countless reality television shows starring supposed “ordinary” people living out-of-the-ordinary lives which seem to involve an awful lot of catty fighting.

This particular episode offered an interesting opportunity to view an actual argument and then to get each participant’s viewpoint on what happened and what was said. As I watched each woman misquote their adversary and also themselves, draw conclusions about the other’s thoughts and intentions, and broadly label the other’s whole personality based on this one exchange (“juvenile”, “conceited”, “self-centered”, “insane”), I realized why there is so much misunderstanding in the world.

And then I wondered how often I have ascribed unintentional meaning to a statement spoken to me, how many times I have exaggerated details or tone when repeating stories of conflict to my friends, how many words I have misquoted to reflect what I heard more than what may have actually been said. I know I have the habit of saying, “I can’t remember the exact words, but the gist was…..” How often may the actual words have revealed a different intent than the “gist” I got?

They are hardly intentional, these misquotes and false assumptions, but if you think about it, it’s not very surprising that they occur. For one thing, in the heat of battle, our emotions are heightened and our natural instinct is to defend, so we may detect weapons when there are none.

Additionally, our expectations of how people will treat us can shape our view of how they actually do treat us, be they strangers or colleagues, siblings or spouses, best friends or worst enemies. How many of us can laugh off a personal comment made by a close friend (“they know us so well”), while the same comment may be viewed as a personal attack by a competitive colleague (“How dare they say that!”)? Who hasn’t noticed that on days when we’re feeling happy, we are less bothered by the attitudes of those with whom we interact along the way?

The women in the aforementioned television show had earlier concluded that they weren’t on the same wavelength and were never going to be friends, and so their every interaction contributed to the prevention of a friendship.

Finally, when we repeat our exchange to another uninvolved (though perhaps not unbiased) party, we are usually asking for confirmation of our assumptions, agreement with our conclusions, and empathy towards our reactions. So maybe we overstate the venomous tone of our opponent’s voice, or the nastiness of the words, or the frightening volume (not to mention intent that is up for interpretation in email correspondence, where tone is distinguished primarily by capitalization which can symbolize anger, emphasis, importance, or maybe just sloppy typing). And maybe we understate our own – just a bit.

It is possible to keep miscommunications from ruining our relationships if desired. We just have to double-check our conclusions. When we find ourselves reacting negatively to something said to us, we should stop and think about what may be causing the reaction. Did they really mean what we heard? Are we making assumptions about what they said or why they said it that may not be true? Might they be under stress or have some misinformation that is causing them to react with an overabundance of emotion? The only way we can know for sure is to ask. The question can be as simple as, “Excuse me, what did you say?” Or it can be more complex, like “It sounds like you said this. Is that what you meant?” It is only after we know that we have understood each other that we can respond fairly. (Of course, we can still over- or under-react, but at least we know we are reacting to the right input.)

We may never truly eliminate the third side of the story – that’s part of the nature of human interaction – but maybe we can achieve a little more overlap and a lot more understanding.

Clean Up

I have watched a lot of television over the past year, but just one scene has left an indelible impression. It was from the last season of Mad Men, a show set in the early 1960’s which features most of its male and female characters in the very traditional roles of breadwinners and housewives, respectively.

The background to this memorable scene is that the lead character’s wife, Betty, is sinking into depression after discovering her husband’s infidelity and then throwing him out of the house. But in this scene, she isn’t crying or raging, she isn’t hiding in a darkened bedroom or eating ice cream on the couch. She isn’t ripping up family photos or burning her husband’s things. She’s simply laying contact paper in her kitchen drawers.

It was such a different way to depict a woman trying to cope with the emotional turmoil of a life turned upside down, yet to me it still conveyed the severity of her pain, perhaps even more so than a traditional angry or sad reaction. Her stoic appearance as she tried to create order where there was really only chaos portrayed not a lack of emotion, but rather a silent outpouring of it. And I could relate.
When I feel like my life is getting out of control, I clean. If I am frustrated with my family, overwhelmed by schedules, or anxious about choices, I distract myself with soiled counters and unswept floors. The cleaning motions provide a physical outlet for my emotions while the mindlessness of the tasks allow my thoughts to wander or simply disappear for a while.

I openly admit to being a control freak (maybe some of you can relate). As such, one of the hardest things about having children has been giving up some amount of control to a little person who may not maintain my high standards. I went into parenthood thinking my guidance would be a welcomed force in the household and that nobody would even consider questioning my practicality and inarguable common sense, but it hasn’t exactly worked out that way. I’m learning to let go of the battles that really don’t matter so that I can be heard when they do, but it still requires a mighty biting of the tongue now and again (and again and again). And so I retreat to the kitchen where at least the dishes will go where I tell them.

Emptying the sink of dirty dishes, the garbage cans of pungent trash, and tables of long-accumulated clutter provides a temporary illusion of calm despite how I may be feeling on the inside (although sometimes my disgruntled attitude while doing the cleaning may delay the calming effect).

When I am facing major “to dos” or decisions beyond the everyday, my anxiety is further increased by disorganization, so that is when you’ll find me rearranging cabinets, streamlining files, or finally inserting last year’s photos into albums. During one particularly difficult time, I even did a massive overhaul of the basement. Fueled by hard rock on my iPod and a very heavy heart, I found the super strength to move the heaviest of boxes, old furniture, and construction debris on my own all in the name of order (though I regretted that the next day when my old achy body returned).

Of course, cleaning is a great way to procrastinate as well, one that provides an illusion of accomplishment. I’m not saying that the accomplishment is false, just that it can be misdirected. I clean when I need to clean, but also when I should be making that phone call, resolving that conflict, or taking that next step.

Unfortunately, the cleaning solution is also a short-lived one. The restoration of order lasts for but a moment, as day-to-day messes accumulate in endless cycles (empty dishwasher-fill dishwasher-empty dishwasher), and new messes arise without warning.

Nor is it ever truly possible to establish order in the long-term as we, our children, and our family continually change, and the family dynamics shift. Each year brings different needs, different decisions, and different anxieties, and it’s not always easy to anticipate the challenges that we or our children will face as we grow – together and apart.

But a clean counter is always a clean counter, and sometimes that is what I need to get me through.